


Missing Pieces

by jay_me_says



Series: Different Times [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, God they are all just Sad, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, they all miss they family, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_me_says/pseuds/jay_me_says
Summary: Technoblade misses his crown and his family.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Different Times [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071380
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Anniversary & Valentine's Day gift for my QPP, Ace! <3

Sleeping was always a dangerous activity for Technoblade, however necessary. It wasn’t so much the sleep itself, but rather the time before sleep in which there was only himself, the bed, and the dark. It allowed the warrior time to think. And thinking was only ever good for him in battle. 

The quiet also highlights how much he misses his crown. Even after so much time without it, his head feels light and exposed when he isn’t wearing it. Once upon a time, he didn’t mind it so much at night, for he knew that come morning it would be back on his head, gleaming and gorgeous. But he’d lost it at some point after he summoned the Withers and fled L’manburg. Maybe there was some irony buried in that, but he didn’t care to look for it. 

Technoblade has been on his own for nearly a month now. But when he stops to think about it, wasn’t he always on his own? 

His brothers had ignored him, betrayed him, then labeled him as a traitor and driven him out. That wasn’t companionship. They had played pretend with him, treating him like some stupid little doll they could use for their revolution. And Techno had gone along with it, because he cared for his brothers, and he had been foolish enough to think they shared his goals for the revolution. 

Really, how stupid did he have to be to think that? Wilbur and Tommy had never really listened to him. He could yell as loud as he wanted, he was just screaming into the void. No one heard him. 

He should feel nothing but bitter and mad, yet when he thinks of his family, there’s a pang of loss. He’s grieving, but grieving what? The loss of people who no longer care about him? 

No, he’s grieving for what he’d thought he had. The companionship. The unwavering loyalty he poured into his family and expected to get back from them. That was how it had worked for so long, especially when they were kids. He wonders at what point that stopped being the case. 

Techno hadn’t liked the idea of siblings at first. He’d been in a mood for weeks after he learned Wilbur was going to be born. But the first time he’d actually seen his brother, it had changed everything. His two-person unit had grown one more, and that was okay. He had someone to protect now, the way his dad protected him. 

Gods, he misses his dad.

He and Wilbur became thick as thieves as the little one grew older. Technoblade helped Dad with the young boy at every turn. He helped teach him to fight, fed him, tutored him, cared for him in every way he could. The responsibility pushed Techno to be a better person. He wanted to be a role model for his brother. He wanted to be like his dad. 

And then Tommy came into the picture, and Techno was ready to have another person to look up to him, another person to care for. Wilbur had been less than thrilled at first, but Techno talked through it with him, and everything was okay. And their unit of three became a unit of four. They helped Tommy learn to fight, they helped feed him, they tutored him, they cared for him in every way they could. The brothers grew as close as three humans could. Loyalty bound them together, a needle threaded with blood. Never was there a moment where any of them had to worry about being alone, because they had one another.

And then there was Tubbo, the final addition to their family. Phil came home with him one day, a little boy with a torn-up shirt and dirt all on his face. He’d looked around the same age as Tommy, but he was so much smaller. 

Techno had been old enough to know how these kid things worked by that point, so he understood they weren’t related by blood when Philza, after cleaning him up, introduced Tubbo to the boys as their new brother. 

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. Techno cared for him all the same. He was just another piece of the family, turning their four-person unit into five. 

For all of his childhood years and into adulthood, Techno had his family. They were his life, practically. Most everything he did, he did for the better of them. He loved them more than life itself and little brought him more joy than seeing his brothers and father happy. 

And they’d left him behind. 

Outgrown him. Shed him like a cicada does its shell. They didn’t need their older brother to protect them anymore. They were all grown up now. 

No need to keep the Blade around. Just use him as a toy soldier in your wars.

Techno stands from his bed in a sudden flourish, tossing the blanket back forcefully. He doesn’t really know what he wants to do now that he’s up. But his body must be on a different wavelength than his brain because it starts moving of its own accord.

He’s on his hands and knees by the bed, grabbing around in the darkness underneath until his hand closes around a small wooden box. 

Pulling it out, the warrior turns and sits with his back to the bed and the box in his lap. He runs his fingers over the rough grain, then unhooks the metal latch, which twists open with a groan. 

Technoblade props the lid of the box against his legs and stares at the contents, letting the memories connected to each one flood forward in his mind. 

He looks first at the chunk of his first training sword. Dad had made that one for him. He’d used it for so long, beating it up until it broke. Most of the dull blade had snapped off, spraying little bits of oak around the yard. He’d kept one of the larger ones as a memento. That was one of the few times Technoblade had been upset over a physical object. He hadn’t quite come to crying, but he remembers how his eyes had stung, telling him that he was damn near close. Dad made his favorite meal that night and read to him from their storybook for far longer than was commonplace. Though content, Techno had been practically exhausted by the time his dad put the book away. 

And then there was the quill Wilbur had used to write one of his first stories. He’d torn the sheets out of his book and given them to Techno afterwards. The papers have long since been lost, the sands of time claiming a dramatic tale about a knight and their dragon named Flame. Wil stated, over and over again at Techno’s prompting, that he didn’t really care all that much about the missing story. But Techno cared. At one point, tired of his brother’s worry and wanting to cheer him up, Wilbur had given the old quill to Techno. “There, now you can stop acting all down- it’s weird. This has way more significance and I need a new one anyways,” he’d said as he handed the quill to Technoblade. The tip was cracked with the exertion of carrying the endless words that flowed from Wilbur’s mind to a page, and the end was frayed by a bad habit of plucking at it in thought. Despite the meanspirited words, Wilbur had been smiling. And there’d been just a pinch of concern hidden in the depths of the other boy’s dark brown eyes. 

There was the piece of redstone ore from Tommy. Who knows how the kid found it. The boy had been about seven at the time and had rushed to show the stone off to his oldest brother. Then, he gave it to him. Because he knew red was Techno’s favorite color. And even though red was Tommy’s favorite, too, he’d given it to him. Tommy had been so young then, and so proud of himself. He had practically glowed as he stared up at his brother, grinning. One of his front teeth had been missing, the spot left vacant by an outgrown baby tooth. Techno had ruffled Tommy’s hair affectionately and thanked him for the gift. Then, he made sure his brother could see as he placed the piece of ore right next to his crown’s nighttime spot on his desk. 

Next to it was the small clock from Tubbo. The gift had been half a joke, Techno was sure, but his little brother’s words had held a certain weight that showed they were genuine. “Since you seem to like to stay up so late, this should help you keep track of the time.” Tubbo had been about eleven at the time, and a glimmer of pride had shone brightly in his eyes when he informed Technoblade that the components of the clock had come from his very first mining trip with Dad. A little coal dust had still been smudged across his cheek. Of course, Techno kept the golden timepiece on his desk. He started keeping a better eye on the time, too. It had been sweet of Tubbo to be concerned for him and go to the trouble of making the clock. The gesture warmed Technoblade’s heart, and he didn’t want his brother to worry. Plus, the look on Wilbur’s face when he went to bed at an appropriate hour the first time was so incredibly worth the lost hours of productivity. 

Billions of memories flood Techno’s mind, engulfing him in a bittersweet cloud. Eventually, after staring into the box and reminiscing for who-knows-how-long, he shuts the lid and pushes the groaning latch shut. He brings it up to his chest for a few moments, hugging the small box close to his heart, then slips it back under the bed. 

Technoblade crawls back on top of his mattress, reaching for the blanket and pulling it tightly around him. The warrior isn’t sure he’ll manage to fall asleep tonight, but he doesn’t know what else to do. For now, he allows the night to cloak him and lets the emotional pain he feels manifest into a physical hurt that feels worse than any battle wound he’s ever received. It seems almost childish to him, but Technoblade wishes for the comfort of his crown, so there can be just one less missing piece of him.


End file.
